Illusion or Reality?
by 13litz13last
Summary: Sasuke, dying on the battlefield, sees a black-cloaked figure: Itachi! Looking into his eyes, he falls asleep, only to wake up when he was younger...could it be that his life was all a dream? Or perhaps this is a horrible trick from Itachi...Spoilers.
1. Dream? Or Reality?

Sasuke lay on the battle field, now quieted of the whirling storm that was the fighting. All had fallen or fled, and now he lay there, surrounded by the dying moans of those too wounded to stand, who knew their fate.

The medics, as it were, were poorly trained and had left a little while ago, only helping those that could manage to stagger to their feet. Sasuke, it seemed, was too damaged to go on.

The pain was unbearable, but he knew as long as he felt pain, he was alive. Although, he'd much rather have been numb. Throbs convulsed his body, stemming from his stomach and legs, bloodied and battered.

He looked up to the sky in agony, which had begun to accumulate thunder clouds. "Is this truly my fate?" He cried.

No one bothered to answer.

He winced and tried to roll over, to hide himself from the rain that was starting to fall, but it was far too painful.

His vision started to blur. He felt himself drifting off, but every time he realized it, he jerked himself awake again.

_No, _he thought resiliently. _No. I have to stay awake. Brother...Nii-san is still out there..._

The pain started to ebb away, and Sasuke willed it back. _  
No, I'm not dead yet! Come back!_

But it didn't. He became slightly delirious, and so when the black-cloaked figure stood before him, he could do nothing.

"Oh, Sasuke," it murmured. "Look what you've become."

Sasuke opened his eyes, straining to make sense of the sight before him. "Bro...Brother?"

The figure almost smiled. "Sleep," he said. Those eyes of his, demanding his attention and spinning red, were too hard to resist as they stared into his. Sasuke mindlessly looked back, into those eyes, those deadly eyes.

--

Sasuke awoke with a jolt. He breathed hard, suddenly relishing the way one could breathe without pain shooting up his ribs. He sat up, hugging his stomach. _Maybe that was all a dream, _he wondered.

But when he looked around him, he realized that either it had all been a dream, the last five years or so, or something was deathly wrong.

Toys were strewn about him, carelessly forgotten. Books lined the shelves, the small TV covered in dust. The windows shone in morning light, and the mirror across from him depicted a small boy, raven hair a mess, staring back with wide-eyes.

"That's me," he murmured in disbelief. "Me. But...not me..."

_I'm seven._

He jumped from the bed, hands roaming his body in incredulity. Impossible. Impossible.

_Impossible._

This couldn't be a dream. He could feel a subtle breeze on his back from the partially open window; he could feel the oxygen from every breath course through his veins.

"Sasuke!" cried a voice. "Sasuke, are you up yet?"

_Maybe, _Sasuke couldn't help but think. _Maybe, Mother, or maybe I'm still dreaming._

But even if it was a dream, an impossibly realistic dream, he couldn't bring himself to pinch himself just yet. Because...well...if this was so real...

The door opened, and there stood a young female, smile wide, carrying a bucket of laundry. "Oh, Sasuke," she said with a shake of her head. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Sasuke shuttered a sigh. "I hope so," Sasuke answered, staring at her angelic form.

Her eyes held confusion. "What do you..."

But her voice trailed off, because Sasuke had run forward, and sprung onto her body, clinging to her, and she was forced to drop the recently folded laundry.

"Sasuke! What has gotten into you?" she laughed aloud, for some reason not even caring about the laundry. "Are you that excited for your birthday?"

Sasuke stared up at her, breathing in her long-forgotten scent of fresh daisies and the feel of an old teddy bear, so soft to the touch. The feel of her hand stroking his head was damn near heavenly. "My birthday?"

"Of course," she said, gazing down at him with a soft gaze. "Your eighth birthday?"

Sasuke stared up, dazed. He remembered his eighth birthday. It was a horrid time, only a month after his horrific ordeal and the massacre, and the whole day he'd lay in bed, shivering uncontrollably.

But maybe that hadn't happened. Maybe that was part of the dream, too.

"It's my birthday." He stated, and he reluctantly let his mother go as she bent over to pick up the mess he'd made of the laundry. "My birthday."

"But that doesn't mean you can just make a mess and get away with it," a dark voice said.

Sasuke looked up, and to his delight, his father stood there, sipping coffee slowly. He'd never liked the heat of coffee just after it was made, he'd wait so long to drink it, but he could never wait long enough, because he always complained that it'd burned his tongue.

"Ouch!" he said, staring at the coffee cup. "We should just ice it next time."

Sasuke could almost cry. There he was, in the flesh. Hopefully. His own father.

He wanted to run up to him, too, to hug him and hold him, and maybe he'd hold him back, like he used to do when he was four but never afterward, because he said that was old enough. And that Itachi had never even done it after two.

Itachi.

Sasuke smiled at his father, hoping beyond hope that he would maybe hug him, for once, or smile and pat him on the back, and tell him, "Happy birthday."

But he didn't, and Sasuke had known it all along. But he did get a special treat, for as he was passing, he put on a hand on his head and shook up his already tousled hair. This was far more than Sasuke had expected, though less than he'd wanted, but all in all, it wasn't half bad.

He couldn't help but watch the man go, but as he was, he said something disconcerting.

"Better hurry up into the kitchen," he said over his shoulder. "Itachi's making your favorite breakfast."

An involuntary shiver arched up Sasuke's back, but he silenced the small squeak that he knew he was about to make.

Itachi was in the kitchen.

He knew that if this was real, this world around him, the world he'd always wanted to return to, then Itachi had to be there. He also knew that he would be the brother he'd always been, always wanted him to stay, and so there was nothing to fear.

But he feared anyway. This was Itachi, the one who'd killed his parents, his whole family, and left him to suffer in hate. The one who'd, not two months earlier, returned to his home and showed him things he'd never wanted to see, for the second, third, fourth, fifth time, over and over and over again.

But that hadn't happened, Sasuke reminded himself. It hadn't.

But the memories were so vivid...

The walk to the kitchen seemed to take forever, each step like a mountain hike. His bare feet ached on the wood, each wood panel squeaking, each bug that lived under that wood panel stumbling over each other to get away. He could hear everything.

And then, he was at the sliding door, with only the thin green paper covering it. He could hear the clank of dishes, the clink of silverware. And with the morning light streaming in the window atop the sink, he could see the silhouette of a figure.

His brother.

And no, he wasn't wearing a large black cloak decorated with those horrible red clouds. Even in silhouette, he looked like a thirteen year old boy, doing the dishes, setting the table.

"I have nothing to fear," Sasuke said aloud to himself, in but a whisper for he knew Itachi, being of the ANBU, could hear him if he spoke any louder. "He's my brother. How could you even think such horrible things of poor Itachi? He would never...ever ever..."

"Sasuke?" came a voice, all too familiar and oddly grating, though kind and patient. "Sasuke, come in here, will you?"

Sasuke gulped, sliding the door open inch by inch. He stared in through a crack.

Itachi was staring at him, leaning on the sink, just like any other thirteen year old boy. "What are you doing, Sasuke? Is this a game?"

Sasuke just stood there, unwilling to answer, unwilling to believe that it really was just this thirteen year old boy he'd known for so long, and yet he felt he barely knew.

"Sasuke, I'm not going to bite you," Itachi chuckled, turning back to the dishes he was cleaning, that he'd used to make his favorite meal.

And, God, the smell was intoxicating. Sasuke couldn't help himself but to enter, though cautiously, and sit at his regular spot at the table.

Itachi quickly dried his hands and took from the large meal plate five huge slabs of chocolate-strawberry-banana pancake, topped with loads of powdered sugar and maple syrup.

Sasuke would never have admitted this, in a million, trillion years, but that had always been and will probably always be his favorite meal. Once, though he'd regretted it and been ashamed of himself, he'd tried to recreate it in his own little kitchen, but everything went wrong. The bananas weren't ripe, the strawberries had fungus on them, and the chocolate was not baking chocolate but regular chocolate, and therefore burned.

It seemed only Itachi could ever do those small things, those insignificant little things, that had always made him happiest. And those years, though supposedly dream-years, had been so full of hate partially because of that. The one who'd made him so miserable was also the one who'd made him the happiest in his life, and he couldn't bear to face that truth.

Sasuke just sat there, staring at the steaming pile of deliciousness Itachi had lay before him. Should he eat it? Perhaps it was poisoned.

Itachi sat across from him, sitting perfectly upright like he always had. "Well, dig in," he encouraged.

Sasuke couldn't bring himself to. He felt tears sting behind his eyes. _What's the problem, Sasuke? _he asked himself. _It was...it was only a dream..._

Itachi's expression became more relaxed and he leaned back into his seat. Sasuke knew that look. He'd always worn it, whenever he was hurt, which was almost never, but Sasuke had learned to recognize it. The subtle downward look, the unfocused eyes, though to many they may have looked normal.

Sasuke picked up his fork and knife. Whatever the case, before him was not the mass-murderer, but his brother. Right now, he was his brother.

He ripped his butter knife through the five layers, taking two layers on his fork, dripping in the syrup, and thrust it into his mouth.

He couldn't help the tears now. It was so delicious, so tangy to the tongue, yet sweet, that the tears just rolled down his chin. He tried rubbing his eyes, but that made syrup stick to his hair, so he just let them come, hoping neither his mother nor his father would see, and ate every last bite of that memorable pile of pancakes.

"What's wrong, Sasuke?" Itachi asked intently. "What's wrong? Did I make it wrong? I'm so sorry, Sasuke, I didn't mean to do that."

_I know, _Sasuke thought.

_You hadn't meant to do that._


	2. Training

Itachi took his plate and quickly emptied it into the sink, not bothering to clean it.

"Sasuke, are you alright?" he asked the hundredth time.

Sasuke nodded, rubbing his eyes, hand sticking to his hair.

"Maybe you should take a shower," Itachi told him, helping him unstick his hand. Itachi hadn't yet touched him that morning, and the feel was strangely revolting yet inviting. It was revolting because he could remember, from his "dream" that those hands had done such evil. But they were also inviting, because though Sasuke was keen to believe he'd done such horrible acts, he was also keen to find any reason to forget those acts, to believe they'd never even happened. And maybe they were just a dream...maybe...

"I don't want to take a shower," Sasuke whined. It was true. What if this world was a dream? What if he only had so long to enjoy it?

Itachi laughed. "You have to, Sasuke," he said. "Can you train like that?"

"Train?" Sasuke questioned.

Itachi grinned. "Yep. You know how you always wanted me to help you perfect that shuriken jutsu?"

Sasuke's eyes widened. Oh, yes, oh yes, oh yes. He'd perfected it on his own, without Itachi, after the massacre, but perhaps that hadn't happened and he still needed Itachi to teach him. Yes, it was only his need to learn it, that was the reason he so urgently wanted Itachi to teach him...

But he still didn't want to shower.

Still, in order to train with his older brother, he would have to. He scuttled off to the bathroom, and on his way bumped into his mother once more.

She was an angel, to him. So beautiful...and she had always taken wonderful care of him. He smiled up at her, grinning uncontrollably. He was just so happy.

"What would you like to do tonight, Sasuke?" she asked him, stroking his cheek. "Go out?"

Sasuke shook his head. "No, a night in is fine," he assured her. And it was. He wanted to stay home...if he left, then came back, it might not be the same.

"Whatever you want to do, honey," she said, starting down the hall again. "Just shower, and get that syrup out of your hair. You need to be squeaky clean on your special day."

Oh, what a special day indeed.

--

The shower was nice and hot. There was no other shower like it, Sasuke knew. That shower head, after the massacre, was discontinued by the company, even though to Sasuke nothing could compare. The water had been shut off in the Uchiha compound days after that horrible day, so Sasuke couldn't enjoy it any longer. Memories flooded back to him strongly as he watched the water cascade down his body. One, in particular, he had forgotten, perhaps on purpose.

He remembered it because when he was looking down at his body, covered with that cute baby fat he hated, he could only think of how he wished he had a body like Itachi's; built, muscular. It looked strong, and not only that, it got girls' attention. They were always looking at Itachi, giggling to each other, no doubt wondering if they had a chance with him, though he never gave them a second look. Sasuke had never been interested in girls--when he was older (if that had happened) he'd only ever been interested in his goal, so he never noticed girls, even if they were swooning over him. But even still, he doubted he had gotten as many adoring girls as Itachi must have.

The memory that came to him was this. Once, when the family went out to eat on a rare occasion, Father had noticed those girls staring at him in the little outdoor restaurant.

"Would you look at them, Itachi?" he snickered, almost childishly. "You should ask one out, you know."

Itachi looked at them and shrugged. "I'll have more time when I'm older. I'm focusing more on my training."

Father shook his head. "Man, when I was your age..."

Itachi sighed. "Alright, Father," he said. "I'll take one out. But just one."

But after two dates with this one girl, he gave it up. Itachi had never explained why, but Sasuke knew. He'd overheard their argument. The girl had been complaining that he wasn't much of a talker, and whenever he did talk, he'd only ever talk about his little brother, and how much he wished they could do more together. The girl was jealous. Of _Sasuke. _

Sasuke, after the massacre, had always believed that Itachi had known he was there, that he would hear that argument, and had done so to trick him into believing he was a caring older brother. But now, maybe it was true. Maybe he did care, maybe he did want to be a good brother, to take care of him, to play with him.

Sasuke hurried, even though the intoxicating feel of the shower made him want to just fall asleep then and there. He stepped out and dressed himself, making sure to put on his training clothes, but look nice--it was a special day, after all. He combed his hair--having forgotten how soft it had once been--and brushed his small baby teeth, amazed at how little he was. He'd never had a dream effect him so, make him truly believe for more than five minutes that it had been true. And this troubled him.

He stepped out of the shower, pulling a hand through his hair. Itachi was waiting for him outside, stretching in the morning light.

"Ready?" he asked.

Sasuke nodded eagerly.

On the way to the training area, Itachi asked him, "So, how does being eight feel?"

Sasuke stared at the ground, slowly moving beneath his sandaled feet. He didn't really know, honestly. He felt older than eight. He felt twelve. He felt all those years beneath his belt--not only eight, but nine, ten, eleven.

"I don't know," he whispered, almost fearfully. How could you _not _know?

Itachi smiled knowingly. "I understand. Sometimes it takes a little while to feel older. I mean, you've only been eight for a day. Not even. It will come soon."

Sasuke nodded absently. _Yes, that's it. That's definitely it. _

_It has to be._

The training ground was just as he remembered it--it hadn't changed a bit, as far as he could remember. He hadn't been there in at least a year.

_No, Sasuke, only a few days ago. Yesterday, even. You were there yesterday._

Itachi stepped up to the starting zone. "Well?" he asked. "You want me to show you it again, or do you want to try yourself?"

Sasuke shook his head. "You start."

Itachi nodded, and picked up his kunai knives. He aligned himself perfectly, and then, was gone.

Only, he wasn't gone. Sasuke could remember being amazed at Itachi, at how fast he could do this, at how perfectly. His eyes hadn't been able to follow him.

Only, now, he could. He could see his movements, anticipate them. He knew them, he knew he'd done them before.

Itachi landed, having aced all the targets. He smiled at Sasuke. "Your turn."

Sasuke, wobbly, took the kunai from him. Itachi patted him on the back reassuringly. "I know you can do it, Nii-chan."

_But...but...I know this, _Sasuke thought, unsure of himself. _Haven't I done this before?_

Sasuke stared at the mound before him. He couldn't force his legs to move. He didn't want to do this. For, what if he did it perfectly? If he did, that meant he had done it before...that this was a dream.

He didn't want it to be a dream.

Sasuke dropped the kunai knives. "You know, I don't think I'm up to it today," Sasuke said quietly.

Itachi raised his eyebrows. "But I thought you were obsessed with it."

"Yeah, but...I don't know, my leg kinda hurts from the other day...and...I got bit by this bug, and I haven't been feeling too good since then..." Sasuke tried to think of anything he could to get out of this tricky situation.

Itachi put a hand to his forehead. "You don't have a fever," he informed him, eyes searching his face.

Sasuke hoped against hope that he would just take his answer and leave it at that.

Itachi sighed. "Alright, Sasuke," he said. "It's your birthday. But what do you want to do?"

Sasuke almost didn't catch himself as he almost sighed in utter relief. "I-I don't know," he mumbled. "Ummm..."

Itachi winked at Sasuke and gave him a sly look. "Wanna go spy on people in the village?"

For a boy of such reverence as Itachi--being the ANBU Black Ops Squad Commander by the age of thirteen--this was a childish and immature thing to suggest. But Itachi had always been strangely honest with Sasuke--even if, at times, he was secretive--and Sasuke loved it.

"Yeah!" he said. Of course he wanted to. He'd always had great fun spying on people with Itachi--Itachi had always been so good at it, and always knew things about people that Sasuke had never thought about--and sometimes intuitively grasped things that Sasuke couldn't even fathom. It fascinated him.

"Well, let's go, shall we?" Itachi laughed.

And they did.


	3. Ice Cream

Sasuke remembered the spot. On the roof, above a small, failing flower shop--the smells of roses and daffadils and sakuras floating through the air, invading their nostrils as they crouched low, eyeing the villagers below.

Mr. Takeda was having an affair with the daughter of a visiting Daimyo. Mr. Suzuki's youngest son was feeding a stray dog at midnight each night; Mr. Hayashi had recently joined the Rock Village mafia, much to his wife's dismay. The ninja Seiji didn't in fact receive his recent leg injury from a giant wolf in the snowy mountains of the Iron country but actually sustained them from an old woman whom he'd tried to steal a purse from. The village was buzzing with activity, and Itachi and Sasuke had seen it all.

Sasuke had never returned here after the massacre. How could he? It was filled with such memories, fond memories of a time in which he'd had a fond brother. Every time he passed it, shivers would run up his spine; especially after the shop had finally closed and the place and become run down, because no one was caring for it, and it gave off a creepy, eerie feeling.

Itachi and Sasuke scuttled behind the building, into the dark alley in which Kosuke Tomiyama, an old man who lived behind a Dumpster, would give them advice. A new proverb each day.

"_Kaeru no ko wa kaeru_!" he called up from his place among the trash. _The child of a frog is a frog!_

Sasuke hadn't a clue what this meant and assumed it didn't really mean anything. From what he could remember, it really never had meant anything at all.

"Come on, Sasuke-chan," Itachi called down, having climbed onto the low roof already. "Grab my hand."

Sasuke reached up his hands and were surprised to find that they couldn't reach Itachi's. He didn't like this, he wasn't used to it.

He jumped, winding his fingers around Itachi's wrist, and Itachi pulled hard and then they were both on the tiled, brown, flat roof.

"Alright," Itachi said, winking. "Let's see what we will see."

That, in itself, seemed like more of a proverb than what Tomiyama had shouted out drunkenly earlier. Sasuke nodded, hiding his uncertainty, and lied on the dark roof with Itachi, looking over the edge.

"That's Daiki, the jonin," Itachi murmured, pointing down at a green vest-wearing individual, talking with three other identical men. "Remember last time we saw him? He was getting yelled at by Witch-Lady Kairi for assuming she was blind!" he laughed.

Sasuke struggled to remember. Yes, Witch-Lady Kairi, she had died of some illness not long ago, in Sasuke-whose-brother-had-killed-the-clan time. Everyone called her that because she was always buying the weirdest things from the grocery store and then selling ugly, horrible-smelling potions and grotesque-looking objects at her home. Nobody really wanted to go there, and eventually she just died, and it took a long time for anyone to notice.

Sasuke didn't remember Daiki's accident, though. It was too long ago...

A few children started to go by, young Academy students no doubt. Sasuke's eyes widened as he took in Naruto's figure, so familiar from his Team Seven days.

_That's...! _Sasuke struggled for breath. _That's...!_

That was Naruto. Naruto, the stupid genin of Team Seven. Naruto, the ramen-eater, Naruto, the shadow-clone user, Naruto, blond-haired idiot, Naruto, the one who says "Believe it."

He could remember a thousand incidents with him, punching him, making fun of him, looking down at him, eating with him, fighting with and against him--_Naruto._

_It couldn't have been a dream,_ Sasuke thought despairingly.

Itachi looked over at his brother, concern in his eyes. They flashed with knowledge and then he said slowly, "Maybe we should go get ice cream, huh, Sasuke? Would you like that?"

Ice cream. A sweet. Sasuke didn't like sweets. Such an innocent venture, going to an ice cream place, slurping down ice cream with your older brother. Nothing. What could be wrong with that.

Woozily, he crawled away from the edge, watching as young Naruto struggled to keep up with the running Kiba and Shikamaru.

Itachi helped him down from the shop and slung an arm around his shoulders, recognizing his uneasiness but seeming not to understand it.

The homeless man behind the trash can called, "_Shiranu ga hotoke_!" _Ignorance is bliss!_

_Is it? _Sasuke wondered. _Is it really?_

--

The ice cream looked too big to finish, let alone start. It was soft serve, and its spirals seemed to go on forever on Sasuke's cone. Covered in cheerful red, blue, and green sprinkles, any child would be delighted by it--Sasuke just wanted to throw it out.

Itachi got his own small, plain chocolate cone and bit into it without wincing at its chilly texture on his teeth. Sasuke looked up at him with sad eyes, wondering if Itachi knew what he thought he knew, or if Itachi was, truly, the old Itachi.

Itachi stared back with kind eyes, pure eyes, but Sasuke knew that those eyes could withhold dark secrets. Or could they?

Itachi reached out and held Sasuke's left hand, and they started walking down a rather deserted stretch of road, with small boutique shops on either side.

Itachi silently licked his cone, making no sound at all, and Sasuke stared at his. All he could think about was his hand twined with Itachi's, and the low, easy, faint thrum of Itachi's blood circulating through the hand Sasuke was holding onto. The warmth was amazing, and Sasuke still couldn't understand how a dream could feel this real. It had to be true. So why was he doubting it?

Horrible, grotesque thoughts of the massacre filled his mind. His parents, dead on the floor, the bodies of the Uchiha piled recklessly here and there...There were so many, in fact, that the coffin-makers of Konoha had to work for weeks to get all the demands filled, and then the bodies, in their respective coffins, were taken to the sea between the Fire Country and the Water Country and were pushed out to sea to float forever, or to sink into the depths, to be eaten by sharks and things. One box actually ended up on the shore of the Water Country a few days later--the body of his second cousin, Kazuhiko.

There had just been so much death and destruction, they hadn't the space to bury all the bodies on Konoha land, or anywhere else.

Could Sasuke _really _have imagined all that?

But the brother beside him could not have done all that. Happily chewing a cone, holding his younger brother's hand, he was the ideal brother. It was impossible to imagine he'd done anything worse in his life besides perhaps dumping a girl, but even then, he'd probably done it as kindly as possible.

Itachi finished his cone just as they reached the end of the block, and the playground was in view. Itachi said, "When you're done, do you want to play on the swings, or the slide, or the jungle gym, perhaps?"

Sasuke sighed, not giving an answer. He bit into his cone, the coldness slipping down his throat and wetting his lips, the sweetness burning on his tongue and his teeth aching from just how freezing it was. His back molars felt every sprinkle that entered, and his stomach slowly filled as he mindlessly chomped the disgusting stuff. Too real. Too real.

When he was done, it was dripping off his chin and onto his shirt, his hands were sticky and messy, and he felt the need to vomit.

Itachi laughed kindly, kneeling beside him on the road, and taking some napkins he'd gotten from the little shop out of his pocket. He wiped off his face like an adoring older brother, wiped off his shirt like an adoring older brother, and led him down a small hill to a familiar pond to wipe off his hands like an adoring older brother. Tears slipped down Sasuke's cheeks uncontrollably as Itachi washed away the sugar, caked onto his hands.

Itachi groaned unhappily. "Sasuke," he pleaded, taking Sasuke's face in his hands, "What's wrong? What did I do? Don't you like ice cream? What is it, brother, what is it?"

Sasuke stared into his eyes. _Do you know? Don't you know? You must, you must, you must..._

But Itachi's eyes revealed nothing, and Sasuke averted his eyes, staring at the mud in the water, and the little fish that were no doubt soaking in the now sugary water.

"Nothing, Nii-chan," Sasuke said. "Nothing at all."


	4. Older Brother

_Hiii, guys. Just want to tell you that this isn't the last chapter. I just thought I should mention that, because the ending of this chapter __**sorta **__sounds like the ending, but it isn't. :D_

--

Itachi sat Sasuke down on a bench beside the sandbox of the playground. He hurried off to find a garbage can and then weaved his way back through a throng of kids, playing as hard as they could because even kids can tell when a day was about to end. The sky was beginning to get an orange tinge, and the sun was getting lower and lower. Sasuke watched it with fascination, wondering how such a beautiful sun could exist in a dream.

Itachi sat down and put an arm around Sasuke's shoulders, leaning back against the seat and sighing. "Nice breeze, huh?"

Sasuke nodded. Indeed, a breeze swept over his arm. What a magical illusion.

Itachi looked at Sasuke through the corner of his eye, pretending to watch as one girl hit another over the head with a doll. He was worried. _Why isn't Sasuke having fun? I want him to have fun. He so rarely has any fun..._

"I'm sorry about the ice cream," he apologized. "And I guess I put too much salt into those pancakes. And I guess watching people on top of a roof is a rather dull activity, right?" he smiled sweetly.

Sasuke just looked down, on the verge of tears once more. _Yeah, that's it, _Sasuke thought. _Ice cream too sweet, pancakes too bitter, people too boring. That's what's wrong._

"But, hey," Itachi said, standing, walking a few steps forward toward the swings. "Could I make it up to you by pushing you on the swings? I know you already know how to do it yourself, but I used to love pushing you when we were little. You wanna?"

_He loved pushing me on the swings? _Sasuke wondered. _Impossible. _

Itachi rolled his eyes, moving slowly back toward the bench. "Alright...I guess I'll just sit here with you..."

For one second Itachi was in front of Sasuke, and the next Sasuke was over his shoulder, rump high in the air, being carried to the swings.

"I will _force _you to have fun if I have to," Itachi growled playfully, gripping Sasuke tightly as he began to flail.

Sasuke began to pound on Itachi's back, kicking his legs wildly, but he didn't do it with much effort. He actually began to giggle. His brother was carrying him over his shoulder. He fisted Itachi's back. His brother was going to push him on the swings. He almost kicked Itachi in the face.

Itachi threw him off and onto the pebbles of the playground floor, knocking the wind out of Sasuke but doing it gently enough that he was unhurt. He grabbed Sasuke by the underarms and dragged him onto the black, rusted swing, where Sasuke giggled again and fought to get off.

"Now, don't try to get off mid-swing," Itachi said. "You'll hurt yourself."

Sasuke chuckled and shrieked rather loudly, happily, as Itachi pushed his back, pushing him into the air, and when he came back he did it again. The feeling was so pleasant, the air rushing through Sasuke's hair, his stomach dropping each time he came back, and Itachi's warm hands on his back...he was in ecstacy.

He didn't know how long he was on the swing. He got lost in the feeling of Itachi's push, his own laughs mingling with Itachi's, that eventually when he started to slow down, he was surprised to realize the sky was dark.

Itachi grabbed his seat and brought it to a halt. "We have to go home now," he said, sounding almost sad. Sasuke wondered if he really was sad. He'd always seemed sad not to be able to play with Sasuke as much because he was in the ANBU, but after the massacre Sasuke had realized it was all a hoax. Now, was it true? "Ka-san will get angry if the food gets cold."

Sasuke nodded. Yes, Mother _would _get angry...

Itachi took his hand and led him through the now empty playground, starting along a small, twisting dirt path that ran along the water of the pond and eventually back home.

"So, did you have fun?" Itachi asked.

Sasuke nodded, almost blushing at admitting it.

Itachi smiled. "Well, that's good," he murmured, almost to himself. "You know, Ka-san was worried about you this morning."

Sasuke looked up then, right into Itachi's eyes. "Why?"

Itachi shrugged. "You weren't acting like yourself. You were always a really happy kid, Sasuke, always smiling. But you didn't this morning. You were happy as can be one minute and the next you looked...well...clinically depressed, shall we say."

Sasuke's eyes furrowed. He'd never really thought to look back on his own actions, and think about how others thought of him. "Sorry," he said.

"Why, though?" Itachi questioned, squeezing Sasuke's hand. They trudged along slowly, small clouds of dust rising from their footsteps. "Especially since it's your birthday."

Sasuke felt weighed down by all that he had to process. His shoulders slumped. What could he say? "I...I..."  
Itachi raised an eyebrow.

What could Sasuke say that would satisfy him?

"Th-there's this kid as my school, right, Hikaru something-or-other. He kinda...well...bullies me. Not seriously, or anything, but he's bigger and stronger than I am. I'm the best in my class but that doesn't make me the strongest. And...I didn't think I could tell anyone..."

Itachi stopped walking, kneeled down, and took Sasuke's shoulders. He looked so serious that Sasuke almost felt ridiculous for having told him such a story. No kid would ever pick on an Uchiha if they knew what was good for them.

"Why didn't you think you could tell anyone, Sasuke?" Itachi asked.

Sasuke shrugged. "Well...Do-san would think I was weak...and...I didn't really wanna lose face in front of everyone..."

Itachi shook his head. "Sasuke, you could have told _me_," he chided. "I wouldn't have told Do-san and I would have helped you take care of the problem. If you want, I could go talk to him..." his voice trailed off, knowing that Sasuke would never want his brother to stick up for him; it would just make Sasuke look puny, making his big brother take care of him. "No, I could go to his house tonight, maybe...scare him off. Dress up like a zombie or a ghost and tell him to never bother you again." He chuckled at the idea, then grinned at Sasuke. "Would you want me to do that?"

Sasuke felt tears again. God, he was such a wimp. "Uhh, sure," he said, rubbing his eyes, trying to make the tears stay away. "Th-that would be nice of you."

Itachi smiled. "Alright." He took his hand, and they began to walk again.

Sasuke bit his lip, thinking about the consequence of what he'd just said. He'd have to tell Itachi where Hikaru lived...would probably have to give him a false address...scare some innocent kid...or tell him the truth. But then he'd ask why he'd lied, and then he'd have to tell him the _other _truth.

Sasuke's lip began to bleed. He hadn't thought about the future. He'd thought that any minute now his alarm clock would go off and he'd have to go on a stupid, probably low-ranked mission with the idiotic Naruto, chronically late Kakashi and the obsessive Sakura. He'd never thought there would be a tomorrow.

But maybe there would be. Maybe he'd go asleep today, and wake up tomorrow--_wake up tomorrow_--with a living, breathing Mother and Father, a kind, adoring, sweet, strong older brother. And he'd get to tell people, yeah, that's my brother--the kind one, carrying the old lady's bags; the adoring one, helping me clean my room; the sweet one, feeding that stray dog; the strong one, fighting off any foe without a scratch. My older brother.

Sasuke smiled then. His first real, _real _smile of the day, spread across his lips and made his whole face beam. God, wouldn't that be something. To have an older brother like that.

He thought his large, raven-colored bangs would hide his joyful expression, but Itachi could see. He wouldn't ever tell Sasuke that he had, but he did, indeed, see. And he let a little smile play over his lips as well.

And they went home, in the fading light of the day.


	5. Happy Birthday Sasuke

"What's wrong, Sasuke? Is the meat too rare?"

Sasuke shook his head. Well, in one way, yes, meat cooked by his mother was rare--possibly because _she no longer lived. _But in another sense, no, it was done rather well, medium rare, just the way he liked it. On his dinner plate were little peices of meat, cut up by Itachi so they'd be bite size, with flavored potato wedges and a bowl of ramen to the side. The red wine sauce was perfect...the potato wedges, spiced up perfectly...the bowl of ramen beef-tasting...Sasuke was almost in ecstacy.

His mother had asked what was wrong mainly because Sasuke wasn't eating much. He loved the food, don't misunderstand; it was delicious and he almost drooled when he just _thought _of taking another bite...but what would happen if he did? And then took another, and another? Eventually it would be all gone, and though the taste would linger on his tongue for an hour, eventually it would fade and all he would be left with was the taste of his own saliva.

"Nothing's wrong," Sasuke told her, stabbing a peice of potato wedge with his chop stick and sticking it into his mouth whole. "It's amazing, Ka-san."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," his father complained. "And don't stab it, Sasuke, you look like a savage. You're an Uchiha, not a slob. Eat with pride."

Itachi chuckled. "Sasuke's just eager to be done with it, and get to the cake."

Sasuke nearly choked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. He swallowed hard and whispered in awe, "C-c-c-cake?"

Mother smiled. She stood, taking her empty dish to the sink. "Of course, Sasuke, do you think we would forget that?"

Sasuke nearly screamed in joy. He might have, if Father hadn't been sitting there, chewing his meat agitatedly. His mother's cake...his mother's cake...

Perhaps it was the years that had gone by that glorified his peaceful, beautiful childhood, making him view them as unbeatable in any way. His mother the kindest, his father the toughest, his family the most elite, his quilt the most comforting, his TV the best sounding, his shower head the most soothing...Or maybe it was true, maybe his life in these days really had been the best. All Sasuke knew was that he'd never tasted a cake that could rival Ka-san's.

"Is it done? Is it ready? Is it chocolate, vanilla perhaps? Does it have frosting? What kind of frosting? What shape is it in?"

"Finish your dinner, and you'll find out," Mother said patiently.

He engulfed his ramen whole.

"And the moisture? Did you check the moisture?"

"I did, Sasuke, it's perfect, now eat."

The meat was devoured faster than an apple could fall from a tree.

"Sprinkles? Did you put sprinkles? Or powdered sugar? Maybe a lemon twist?"

"Sasuke, don't eat with your mouth full, you'll choke."

Sasuke inhaled the wedges. As the last one hit his stomach, he realized he may never eat them again. Somehow, it didn't bother him as much as he'd thought it would earlier. If he'd be able to taste his mother's cake once more, it was worth it. He'd give up all his worldly possessions _just _for _one _bite of it.

Itachi smiled at his overly eager brother. "Alright, Sasuke, calm down. Mom, shall I retrieve it?"

She nodded, taking Sasuke's plate as he wiped his mouth with his napkin.

It was almost slow motion as Itachi opened the pantry door, where the cake had been hidden from him for this moment. His father switched off the lights, his mother retrieved a lighter. Itachi blocked Sasuke's view as the candles were lit, and Sasuke twitched where he was sitting.

His father, Fugaku, sat beside him and smiled. "You're really excited, aren't you? So easily pleased."

Sasuke got the breath knocked out of him. His father was smiling. His father's words...were...kind, pleased, maybe even a little smitten with his son. Sasuke beamed.

It wasn't a tradition in the Uchiha family to sing "Happy birthday." There wasn't any particular reason--some grouchy past Clan Head had forbidden it, probably--it just wasn't done.

So the cake came out in silence, held in his brother's arms. The flickering candle light sent shadows along Itachi's shirt, but somehow, it didn't strike Sasuke as eerie. This was how it was supposed to be. Slowly, slowly, slowly, he was becoming accustomed to this life. He'd fit right back in. He'd died and gone to heaven, he was sure of it, but he wasn't pining over the loss of his life. This was exactly where he'd wanted to go.

Itachi set the cake down, and sat across from him, smiling still. The cake was fabulous, decked out with firework-like candles that glittered and crackled. The frosting was white, and it was a circular cake, with the design of pretty white doves on the sides. The top said, between the partying candles, _Happy Birthday Sasuke._

Happy birthday Sasuke.

So, this was what life would be like from then on. Sasuke had been given a second chance, and hell, he'd make good use of it.

_Happy Birthday Sasuke._

--

Sasuke lied on his bed, completely exhausted. The cake had filled him, every agonizingly sweet, deliciously rich, intoxicatingly flavored bite had caused him spirals of pure delirium. No drug could achieve such a high.

He listened to his mother in the kitchen, washing the dishes. His father was in the living room, watching the _Shinobi News Network _(SNN) which was currently showing commercials between the football game between the Konohonian _Chak Rahs _and Suna's _Nin Jahs._ His father had always cheered on whatever team Konoha was against. Sasuke always figured there was an old rival that had made the team and he hadn't, or he just thought the manager was horrible or something, because he would always yell, "Down with Konoha! You'll see! I'll get you one day!"

These would be the sounds he would hear from now on. Oh, how he delighted in the notion. Another trance of joy enraptured him. He felt like the guy from _It's a Wonderful Life, _experiencing what life would be like without him being around--except reversed. And then he got to live it with renewed joy, because he was grateful for what he had.

There was a knock on the door. Sasuke drunkenly called out, "Come in."

The door creaked open and a grinning Itachi entered.

"Don't you just look completely euphoric."

Sasuke didn't bother to answer. Itachi knew the answer.

He sat at the edge of the bed, bathed in darkness. The sun had set a while ago, and when Sasuke had stumbled into here with his stomach aching from the fullness, he'd forgotten to turn on the light.

Itachi's half-hidden face, illuminated slightly by the moonlight streaming through the window, seemed rather happy as well. Sasuke couldn't imagine him to be more happy than he, but he seemed pleased.

"And why are _you _so happy?" Sasuke inquired.

Itachi laughed. "Because I know you'll love what I'm going to give you."

Sasuke bolted upright, then regretted it; a cramp ripped through his stomach and he fell atop the bed, sputtering for breath. Still, he asked through gritted teeth. "A...a...present?"

His father had given him nothing and his mother kept saying that her present was a surprise that he'd get later. He was begging for _something._

He was eager. He knew he'd have all the time in the world...all the time in the world...the next day, or the next day, or the next day...but he wanted it _now. _

His mind abandoned the notion of this being a lie, a dream, an illusion. It _must _be real! How could he feel so good with it being but a dream?! He refused to have this moment darkened by thoughts of massacres and vengeance and a blood-filled past. He erased his mind, forcing it to start over.

"What is it?" Sasuke begged to know. "What? What?"

Itachi laughed. "Aren't we anxious!" His grin turned mischeivous. "No, no, perhaps tomorrow; you're tired, you've eaten too much..."

"Give it to me _now_!" Sasuke pleaded, forcing himself upright and tugging hard at Itachi's sleeve. "I want it _now_!"

Itachi shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know..." he said playfully. "I think I misplaced it. I brought it home, but I might have left it outside..."

Sasuke jumped up and bolted to the door.

--

_Sorry for the long wait. I'm so lazy. Happy holidays!!_


	6. Presents

Sasuke emerged from his home and onto the back porch, which stood before a small amount of crisp grass before ending at a small pond. The green water rippled with a slight breeze, and Sasuke took in the sight for a moment before beginning his search.

Itachi leaned against the railing of the stairs, and watched as his little brother almost tripped over himself rifling through the bushes, looking for the fabled presents.

Finally, Sasuke stumbled upon the hidden present. Beneath a sakura tree were two boxes, covered in bright wrapping paper, just begging to be ripped apart. Sasuke almost shook with excitement.

_Oh, my, Kami, _he thought to himself. He could just remember the last present he'd received from his brother, on his seventh birthday, that still seemed so long ago...

--

_"What is it? What is it?" Sasuke begged._

_ "Oh, nothing," Itachi teased, backing out of the kitchen where Sasuke had just eaten a huge slice of cake. "It's really nothing big..." _

_ "Gimme gimme GIMME!" Sasuke demanded impatiently. _

_ Itachi ran then, and Sasuke eagerly followed, chasing him all around the house until Fugaku yelled at them._

_ "Come into my room," Itachi whispered, taking Sasuke's wrist in his hand and pulling him sharply._

_ Itachi's room was dark except for the fading light of the day, and Sasuke bounced himself onto his bed several times before halting and watching Itachi as he stood before the bed. _

_ "Alright, Sasuke," he said. "I'm going to give you your present. But you must promise, _promise, _not to show Father or _anyone _else. This is between you and me, alright?" _

_Sasuke nodded giddily, standing up and jumping upon the bed several more times. Itachi took his shoulders to stop him, and then rummaged through his chest of drawers._

_ "Alright..." he said. "Here it is..." _

_ He turned around and held before Sasuke a small rucksack-like bag. It was light gray with a brown trim, and it was the perfect size for Sasuke._

_ "A backpack?" Sasuke said doubtfully._

_ Itachi nodded. "But not _just _a backpack," he said. "It's got a holder for kunai knives, shuriken, and even a place for ninja scrolls. It's my old one, but I 'refurbished' it, so to speak. It was of great value to me, believe me. My friends all got poked and prodded by their ninja weapons with their backpacks, but not me, and certainly not my little brother!"_

_ Sasuke smiled with gratitude and accepted the present. He had been hoping for something more, like candy, or maybe even a puppy, but this was good nonetheless. His older brother was bequeathing to him such a garment that was dear to him and for that Sasuke was greatful._

--

After the massacre, Sasuke had thrown it away disdainfully, even though the kunai knives and shuriken _did _poke at him and on a number of occasions caused himself to bleed. But he'd beared through it, if only to express a silent hatred against Itachi.

Now that that _hadn't _happened, he'd keep it with him always.

Sasuke dropped to his knees before the new presents and shook the bigger one. It was more than obviously a large book of some kind, and Sasuke tried to hide his disappointment. Books.

The other was more difficult to determine. It was definitely a box, but whenever Sasuke rattled it, it wouldn't make a noise at all.

Itachi came up beside him and sat cross-legged. He smiled at Sasuke and nodded toward the presents. "Go ahead," he said. "Open them."

Sasuke grinned and tore at the wrapping paper. The first one was, as he had guessed, a book. It was old and mildewy and smelled of dust, but had big letters that were intricately designed. Sasuke was almost eight, so he could read but wasn't all that good at it yet, so it took him a few tries, with Itachi's help, to read it.

"_The Complete Uchiha Guide to Ninjutsu, Genjutsu, and Taijutsu,_" Sasuke finally managed. His eye brows furrowed as he carefully turned the yellowed pages. "It's a ninja book?"

Itachi laughed. "In layman's terms, yes. This book has been passed down through several generations, and new jutsu continues to be added to it each year. Technically, it belongs to the clan, but you can hold onto it, if you're careful."

Sasuke nodded happily. It was such a big responsibility, to hold onto such a precious book, and he could tell that Itachi gave it to him in order for Sasuke to gain respect from their father.

"So every ninja technique the Uchiha Clan's had, _every one, _is in this book?"

Itachi shook his head sharply. "No, no, of course not! There are some that are top-secret, only for the higher-up Uchiha to know. What if something happened to the book, and it were to fall into the wrong hands?"

Sasuke hung his head. Itachi didn't think he could handle the responsibility.

Itachi sighed and took Sasuke's chin in his hand and lightly pulled his chin up, making him look straight at him. "It's not that I don't think you could protect it, Sasuke," he said softly. "No matter who had it, not even our father, _no one _would be allowed to have that information in such an obvious place as a book of Jutsu! It's tucked away safely...elsewhere..."

Itachi took the book from Sasuke's lap and placed it onto his, where he stroked it softly. "It's hand-written, too," he murmured. "Our whole clan..." his teeth gritted slightly.

Sasuke's eyes widened. "Y-yeah," he said, roughly taking the book back. For his "new" big brother to show dislike when talking of their clan...no, no, he must have imagined it. He refused to have Itachi talk about this again.

Sasuke placed the book beside him carefully; it was quite heavy and delicate. Then, he turned to the next gift.

Carefully, slowly, as to preserve the moment, Sasuke unravelled the wrapping paper.

Sasuke blinked.

"A hair dryer?" Sasuke asked dubiously.

Nestled in the grass was a box that had once obviously held a hair dryer, as it plainly and boldly stated on its front, which he was sure his mother must have bought several days earlier.

"No, no, what's _inside _the box," Itachi said hurriedly.

"Ooooh," Sasuke said, smiling once more, pulling at the side. But it had been re-taped, and Sasuke was hardly strong enough to undo the tape that riddled the lid.

_What's wrong with me, _Sasuke said, again contemplating the probability of this all being a dream. _This isn't my true strength! I am so much stronger than that!_

Itachi carefully removed the tape and set the box on Sasuke's lap once more. Sasuke's bottom felt damp from sitting on the grass beside the pond, and the slowly climbing moon sent slivers of eerie silver light down onto the land, casting shadows about him as it cascaded through the leaves of the trees, and for some reason, it felt like the perfect moment. Yes, he was opening presents with his older brother, beneath a full moon...he decided to imprint this one moment into his memory.

He clenched his eyes shut and wished, harder than ever before, for this moment to be _real_.

After a moment, Itachi touched his shoulder, jolting him awake.

"Sasuke," he said softly.

Sasuke looked up at him, and into his soft, kind eyes.

"Aren't you going to open it?"

Sasuke nodded and opened the gift.


	7. I'm There

Wow. Just...woooow.

I really just haven't felt like writing for the LONGEST time now. And how long's it been? Four months? DUUUDE. Longer.

Hope this makes up for it? SORRY.

And, may I just say, I think this is my best chapter yet!

Sasuke eagerly opened the box. Inside, tucked tenderly in sheets of soft packing paper, was Itachi's most prized possession.

His stuffed weasel.

Confusedly, and extremely, extremely cautiously, Sasuke pulled away the paper and delicately cradled the old, raggedy toy in his hands. Its eye had long since fallen out, its fur now coarse and hard, its ear ripped at the top from when Sasuke had once gotten ahold of it during his teething period...it was Itachi's childhood playmate, the one object that the ninja, who was dedicated to detaching himself from material and sometimes emotional things as much as possible, still cared for.

Sasuke's eyes began to water as he realized what this must mean. He looked up at Itachi, who smiled almost shyly beside him.

"I...well...it's about time I grew out of such childish tendencies, as to hold onto such a thing," Itachi stumbled for an excuse. "I don't need it anyway, and, well...I thought you'd like to have it?"

Sasuke wiped the tears away, hoping to look more composed than he really was. It had to be true, all of this, the real Itachi would never have done this for him...

Sasuke laid the stuffed animal on the ground and hugged Itachi abruptly. Itachi was late to respond, but pulled Sasuke into his lap and held him there.

"Thank you," Sasuke murmured.

Itachi just nodded and then let Sasuke go, and Sasuke had known he would; this Itachi was a kind fellow but often became unsure of himself in emotional situations. He took up the book and handed the stuffed animal to Sasuke.

"Take good care of it," he warned.

Sasuke nodded and took the gift gratefully, and turned back toward the house.

Itachi began to make his way to the house when he realized Sasuke wasn't in tow. Looking back, he saw the boy staring disappointedly at the grass.

"If we go back," Sasuke grumbled, "I'll have to go to bed."

Itachi blinked and then a grin broke out across his face. "True," he said, almost to himself. "But Mother would get worried if we stayed out too long...we really _must _go back..."

Itachi looked down at Sasuke, just a few feet away, with playful eyes.

Sasuke's eyes flashed with understanding. "But, we don't have to go just _yet_..."

"Well, if you won't go, I guess I'll have to _make _you..."

The book was on the ground in a flash, and Sasuke charged in the opposite direction. Their backyard consisted of a small pond, but it was surrounded by woods and Sasuke sped toward them, knowing his way around them like he did the back of his hand.

Sasuke clutched his present and bolted through the trees, and found himself laughing almost hysterically. He was playing _tag _with the boy who had _killed his family. _Though he felt it untrue now, all a dream, the fake-memories still remained, those hurtful days alone, and yet they didn't make any difference now. All that mattered was right _now. _

Sasuke heard the crunching of leaves and twigs, and knew Itachi was right behind him. Sasuke knew better than to believe that this noise was just Itachi being clumsy--Itachi would never have made such unnecessary noise in a chase, he was a high-class ninja. But it was a game.

Sasuke's feet thudded loudly on the muddy shore of the pond. Mud splashed out around him as he raced forward, the thrill of the chase running in his veins.

"Watch out..." a thin voice cut through the darkness.

Itachi was there then, tackling Sasuke to the ground, making sure that Sasuke was unharmed as they hit the ground. Sasuke giggled uncontrollably, grasped his prized gift to his chest, keeping it safe, and chuckled into its fur. He was on his side, in the mud and dirt, with Itachi's arms wrapped around him, and he could feel Itachi's chest rise and fall as he laughed, too. The sensation was more than Sasuke could bear, and he curled himself into a ball, overjoyed that he was playing with his older brother, unable to believe it. Itachi just wrapped his arms tighter, and rolled over so Sasuke was on top of him, looking up at the stars that were now becoming brighter and brighter as the day began to close.

Itachi pointed then. Sasuke followed the outstretched finger to the brightest star in the sky, winking at them.

"See that star?" Itachi whispered. Sasuke nodded.

Itachi's tone turned suddenly serious. "Whenever you see it, think of this moment. Think of how happy we are, how much fun we had, on your eighth birthday. Whenever you're sad, you feel alone, and you want to cry, just remember--I'm there. I'll always be there for you, Sasuke. Never forget that."

Sasuke nodded softly, gripping the weasel to his chest. He could feel that what Itachi was saying was of great importance to him, and Sasuke peered at the star and remembered its place in the sky. "I will," he whispered.

"Good," Itachi said, tightening his grip on Sasuke and hugging him fiercely. Sasuke let himself be hugged, marvelling at Itachi's strength.

"All right," Itachi said after a moment, sitting up. Sasuke blinked and realized that he was exhausted. He looked up at Itachi with tired eyes.

"I know, I know, you're tired," Itachi chuckled, standing and repositioning Sasuke so that he hugged his chest, weasel firmly against him with one hand while Sasuke's other gripped Itachi's neck. "I'll carry you back."

The next thing he knew, Sasuke was being carefully laid upon Itachi's bed, stuffed animal still almost glued to his side, and realized he had somehow been dressed in his pajamas while he had been out cold. His new book was laid carefully on the bedside table, beneath the soft light of a lamp. He gazed at Itachi with half-closed eyes.

"Oh, so you're awake, are you?" Itachi said softly. "I thought for sure you were out like a log."

Sasuke just blinked and smiled lazily. "How could I sleep on a day so great as this?"

He could hear the gentle clinking of plates being washed, the buzz of his father's television, the hum of the air-conditioner. Most of all, he could hear Itachi's steady breathing.

Itachi pulled Sasuke up and under the covers, and then he fell in, too. He gently tucked Sasuke in, right beside him, and then shut off the soft lamp light on his nightstand, so the only light illuminating the room was the soft moonlight streaming through the window.

Sasuke could feel himself dozing off, head against Itachi's chest, so he said before he lost himself completely, "I love you, Itachi."

Sasuke was just awake enough to hear Itachi's gentle reply. "I love you, too, Sasuke. I always have, and I always will."


	8. Only Survivor

Everything was a blur. Shapes, colors-it was all a blur. Even sounds seemed muffled, as if in a dream.

"No, Sasuke!"

This sound was clear, peircing, and brought Sasuke to attention. His eyes opened wide and he bolted upright, and immediately regretted it-a dull pain throbbed through his body, and he fell backward, gasping for breath. His eyes clouded with stars, but when they cleared, he saw that he was in a small green tent, and shouts and hushed voices could be heard outside.

"No, Sasuke! Oh, what happened to you?"

Sakura. Sakura? Sasuke blinked, disoriented again. Where had Sakura come from?

Sasuke groaned slightly and forced himself to think clearly. He muttered, "Where...am...I?"

"The hospital," said a disinterested-sounding voice. Kakashi. Sasuke made out his figure sitting cross-legged beside where he lay. "You went all-out in that battle...I knew we shouldn't have commissioned you..."

"Oh, Sasuke!" Sakura cried, flinging herself upon him and sobbing into his chest. Sasuke cried out as she caused pain to ripple through his body, and she backed away.

"What...are you...talking about?" Sasuke growled. This couldn't be happening. He looked down at himself. Though he was still grasping for his bearings, he could plainly see he was no longer an eight-year-old. Pain mixed with bitter remorse shook his body. "Why...am I...here?"

"You don't remember?" cried an obnoxious voice. Naruto. Sasuke zeroed in on the orange ninja, crouching before his bed, trying to look detached, though his eyes betrayed concern. "You fought those Rain ninja on that B-mission. That was a few days ago." He pouted. "I coulda gone, but noooo, they only let amazing little _Sasuke _go..."

"The mission was unsuccessful," Kakashi explained. "You were the only survivor."

Sasuke tried to reason with what he was being told. "But...if...that's true..." Then everything...was a dream. He had been in a coma. All those beautiful moments with Itachi...had all been...a dream...

"You were relatively unharmed though," Kakashi said, trying to bring optimism into the room. "It's a good thing, especially considering the state of the battlefield..."

Sasuke's face contorted in remembrance. No, no, no, this had to be a dream. _This _was the dream, not reality! He was lying beside Itachi right now, and any minute his mom would pop her head in, and he and his brother would eat breakfast, and go training, and eat ice cream, and spy on people, and it would all be like it was supposed to be.

Tears formed around his eyes as he was racked with pain. _This pain is too real, _Sasuke mourned. _Too, too real..._

He forced himself upward, and sat, despite the agonizing pangs of hurt that started to escalate throughout his body. He stared at his hands, and then his arms, and assessed his legs and torso. Cuts littered his frame, bruises and scratches and an especially deep wound on his thigh. He tried to remember how he gained it, but it was all too blurry.

"Lie down, Sasuke!" Sakura commanded.

He shot her an angry glance and she gulped, but remained firm. "Lady Tsunade's been teaching me about healing," she said in a steady voice. "So you must do as I say. Lie _down_."

Sasuke collapsed, groaning. This couldn't be. This _couldn't be._

"Why don't I speak to him, guys?" Kakashi suggested. Naruto and Sakura stared at him.

"Alone," Kakashi clarified.

Grudgingly, the two left, and Sasuke and Kakashi were alone in that small, claustrophobic tent. For a moment, the two only stared at one another; Sasuke levelling a glare and Kakashi coolly gazing. Finally, Kakashi asked, "What _happened _out there?"

"I don't remember," Sasuke responded stubbornly.

"You must remember _something,_" Kakashi urged. "Anything would help us."

"Help you?" Sasuke spat. "What more is there to be done? We lost. The whole regiment-dead. You think I learned anything _important_? Some enemy secret? I was just a foot-soldier, right? What do you need me for?"

Kakashi's gaze never wavered. "But you survived," he calmly stated.

"No kidding," Sasuke choked. His eyes burned as he remembered his "dream." He'd rather have died. He'd rather have been in a coma, had that dream, and then just died afterward. The alternative-living in a world where that _hadn't _happened, where Itachi _had _destroyed everything he held dear-was worse than death.

"Everyone else _died,_" Kakashi clarified. "And it's not like they bled out, most of them. They were torn to bits. Body parts, pieces of limbs, all strewn about. Your comrades looked like _hamburger meat._" He looked away then, in remembrance of the sight. "When we-the back-up team-arrived...there was no one left alive to heal. We thought _everyone_ had died."

Sasuke waited for what he knew was coming.

"But you _didn't,_" Kakashi said incredulously. "Not only that, you were practically untouched, in comparison!"

Sasuke laughed then, a cruel, nasty laughed that seemed to echo in the small tent. "Do you have _any _idea the pain I'm in right now?"

Kakashi sighed. "You're healed, though, Sasuke. Your body was in much worse shape than it is now, and somebody healed it before we arrived. There wasn't a medic anywhere near you-they'd all deserted the field, incidentally..." Kakashi scowled then, but continued. "_Somebody _saved your life-the medical ninja in our staff said that you _would _have died, if _someone _had not healed you."

Sasuke stared at the tent roof, unable to respond. Once again, he was the only survivor to _another _tragedy. He wondered, idly, what was so special about him-why _he _deserved to live, while no one else was given that privelege.

"Now, this ninja that saved you-he or she was definitely _not _trained in medicine. But they knew enough to seal the worst of the wounds. Are you going to say you were unconscious? Tell me that, and I'll let the subject go, for now."

Sasuke tried to remember. _Had _someone helped him? Had there been some mysterious medicine woman from a nearby village, or a medic from his own regiment who'd taken pity on him, and at least _tried _to save him before leaving?

No. All he could remember was right before drifting into the bitter-sweet paradise he'd existed in until just a few moments before. The pouring rain, the moans of the dying, and then...

Itachi. He'd come from no where...cruelly smiled at him...but that must have been part of the dream. He must have been delirious.

He must have been.

Sasuke shook his head, causing a headache to start. He was so confused, so tired. He ached to be alone.

Kakashi sensed this and stood. "I'll make sure you're undisturbed for now," he assured him. "The battlefield is being cleared. The bodies-what's left of them-will be shipped back to their families, and then we're leaving. So rest up."

He left.

Sasuke refused to move even an inch. His whole body itched, and throbbed, and ached. Sasuke could see that the thin army-issued blanket that covered him was slowly turning red-he realized a cut had re-opened on his arm and he was bleeding.

He closed his eyes. He didn't want to be here. He needed to go. He couldn't stand it here, being so helpless, so wounded, waiting for others to tend to him. He was an Uchiha-he couldn't be this weak! He struggled to sit up, and fell to his knees beside the mat he'd been lying on. His breath was ragged, pain rushing through his veins, but he fought the urge to collapse. He needed to go...somewhere. Out of here, at least.

There were two openings in the tent. The one Kakashi and his teammates had left from, and one just inches from his bloody, battered hands.

He peered through the slit in the fabric and saw an expanse of dark, dense woods. He smelled the tell-tale scent of mud-it had just finished raining recently, he gathered. There was no path as far as he could see, but he didn't need one. He just wanted to walk. He'd make due with a few twigs and branches in his face.

He staggered to his feet, clutching the tent for support. It was surprisingly strong and held him upright, and he stumbled from the tent.

He was not in a particularly healthy state at that point, and if there had been any ninja nearby, they'd have instantly seen him and demanded his return to rest. Thankfully, the tent was tall enough to hide his figure from the main camp, and he was able to limp to the treeline without interference.

The shouts of the back-up party died away behind him, and the squawks of birds and the rustling of leaves replaced them. It was autumn, and the wind was fierce, but he refused to turn back. He began to bleed from many wounds, but still, he pressed onward, clutching wayward branches and saplings for support. Soon the gnawing breeze numbed him, and he was able to press forward without pain.

The numbness brought questions to his mind. He felt nothing now-maybe _this _was a dream. Yes, he was dreaming now. He would soon wake up beside Itachi, his beloved brother, and they would have all sorts of adventures together.

This thought consumed him, as he made his way through the dense forest. This was all that kept him going-there could be _no way _the universe would taunt him with such an illusion, only to rip it away from him, leaving an invisible mark that could _never _heal. There was no way.

He finally stopped his random journey and looked about him. He was completely submerged in the forest, showered with the leftover rain that had accumulated on the leaves that still remained on the trees. He peered in all directions and saw nothing, but he _could _make out the sound of heavy feet trudging, and gruff men's voices.

He peered to his left and staggered a bit forward, and could see, if he squinted hard enough, a path through the trees that Leaf ninja followed, carrying stretchers full of the dead.

They were clearing the battlefield.

Sasuke made up his mind then. In a few hours, they would leave, and he'd never have any idea of how he'd survived or who had helped him. He'd never return here, he realized, and he'd never know for sure. His only shot was to go to the field himself, before anyone stopped him, and see for himself what exactly had happened there.

With that, he started forward. This new quest dimmed the sharp pain that was his memory of his treasured fantasy.


	9. Discovery

The field was a mess.

Puddles of blood mixed with rainwater slowly melted into the soil, and chunks of flesh and broken bone could be seen in the blades of the grass. Most of the bodies had been taken away, but a few were left, dotting the field-masses of blackened flesh and bubbling blood, unrecognizable. Sasuke wondered how they would be identified.

Sasuke clung to a gnarled old tree, hidden from the few Leaf ninja nearby, breathing hard. This was where it had all happened. He struggled to remember the details as memories swam through his head, random and meaningless. Running, shouting, the whiz of thrown kunai and shuriken, shrieks of pain and the drizzle of rain...smells, sounds, and sights, rushing through his mind. The earlier headache returned.

What had happened? His regiment, full of inexperienced Leaf ninja, had met an army of Rain shinobi and a battle must have ensued. And by the looks of it, they were far more prepared than the Leaf were.

Sasuke knew there had been higher-ranking Leaf shinobi than he on this field. Though Sasuke prided himself in being strong and capable, he knew that he was not the strongest. So why had he survived? What had Sasuke done to save himself-cower in front of the enemy forces? Run and hide, like so many others?

No, he remembered lying on the field, wounded. He had not fled. He just didn't know what had happened in order for him to have ended up there, or what had followed.

Sasuke needed to find where he had fallen. He tried to recollect what had surrounded him, those final moments before blacking out. Trees, and bodies. Well, that wasn't very helpful.

He hadn't seen any Rain ninja, though. The Rain shinobi must have survived, since the Leaf had been decimated. Sasuke guessed that he wasn't the first in the formation, perhaps behind a few rows of militia who had fallen before he.

Where he stood, blood and stomach-churning pieces of flesh littered the ground. But farther on, it thinned out, with more grass than blood and mud than body parts and weapons.

So that path that led here-that was where his troops had come from. And on the opposite side-Sasuke could make out a winding path continuing through the trees on the other side of the field-was where the Rain had come.

The Leaf shinobi could easily see Sasuke where he currently stood if he walked. So he decided to crawl, on his hands and knees and occasionally stomach-despite the grotesque items that were strewn recklessly around the field-and try to find where he had fallen.

The ground was cold and wet, and he slipped when he came upon mud. The field was not flat but rather slightly bumpy, and this made the going harder, as he slipped and slid down slight declines and had to force himself up the inclines.

Nothing was familiar. Sasuke was covered in mud, grass, and blood-his own or his fallen comrades, he couldn't be sure. He started to shiver and couldn't stop, and pain began to come back to him, throbbing in his gut and long his arms and legs-especially in his thigh.

_Damn it! _he thought, shaking. He hadn't a clue where to go. The closest Leaf ninja was a few yards away, and he pressed himself into the mud, hoping that he would blend in the with the ground.

He did. The ninja finally ambled away toward a group and helped carry another mass that must have formerly been human away from the field. Finally, with the exception of several shinobi hundreds of yards away, Sasuke was alone.

He wanted to vomit. He'd never seen a scene so grotesque since...since...he didn't want to think about it. Especially because, he hoped, it had never actually happened.

He flopped onto his back and stared at the sky. Was this the sky he'd seen back then, in the midst of all that death? The sky, blessedly, held few clouds-the rain shower must have drained the sky of water. Sasuke could see the stars twinkle above him, and realized it must be almost midnight.

He wanted to give up. There wasn't a point. He'd never return to Itachi, and he knew it. It had all been a pleasant fantasy. The realization of this brought tears to his eyes, and before he could stop himself, he started to sob. Thankfully, no one was around to hear his gut-wrenching cries-he would have killed himself, displaying such weakness to fellow ninja.

He was about to fully give himself over the overwhelming despair that had bloomed from the depths of his stomach when something caught his eye. He sat up a little bit, slipping in the cold, gritty mud, and blinked several times.

A brown, furry shape rested in a puddle of water-thankfully, clear of any red tinge-a few feet from his head.

Sasuke tried to decipher what it could be. A dead animal? He didn't smell dead animal, but then again, the air was heavy with the stench of death already, so it wasn't as if it would be very noticeable. Maybe a fur hat? Leaf ninja didn't carry fur hats. Did the Rain carry them, perhaps?

The puddle was slightly below him, on a small decline, and Sasuke pushed himself down it, slipping into the shallow pool. The cold water seared his skin but Sasuke ignored it. He examined the fur ball.

It was...a stuffed animal. That he could be sure of. It did not feel dead and frozen, but soft-if dirty-and flexible.

Mud covered it, and it was hard to make out what kind of animal it was made to look like. Sasuke was so intent on finding its identity that he didn't even wonder how it had ended up here.

By the light of a gibbous moon, Sasuke dunked the toy into the water again and again, brushing off as much wet soil as he could manage. Finally, it was clean, and he held it up into the light of the moon.

Tears began to fall once more, hot and heavy, and unstoppable.

It was a weasel. But not just any weasel-Sasuke would know this weasel _anywhere. _It was Itachi's-_no, _Sasuke thought. _It's mine. He _gave _it to me._

He clutched it to his chest and sobbed, his body convulsing. He began to choke on his own sadness, and he coughed hard, shrieking into the night, not caring that the ninja nearby would hear and subsequently find him.

Itachi _had _been here.

_Itachi _had saved Sasuke_. Itachi_ was the one who left the weasel here. _Itachi_ was the one who had put Sasuke under, healed his wounds, and designed the dream that would soften his heart forever.

Sasuke would never understand why. Was it to hurt Sasuke? To taunt him of a past that he could never have? Was it to weaken him, make him love Itachi once again, in order for a faster kill when they finally dueled?

Sasuke knew these were the logical answers. He knew that if he ever told anyone of this, that they would surely tell him not to get his hopes up, that Itachi had played him just as he always had.

But when Sasuke turned his gaze to the sky, and saw the star-_-his _star, _Itachi's _star, _their _star-he remembered, and knew. Itachi _loved him. _Sasuke could never explain why or how Itachi did, but it was an irreversible feeling of which he had no doubt. It was too preposterous, too impossible, too illogical. But he _knew._

When the shinobi found him, he was fast asleep-a huge smile plastered across his face.

**The end.**


End file.
